By the time Traebus finally dragged the crocodile back to his rocky enclosure, his arms felt like lead, his shoulders aching from the effort. He grunted as he hauled the carcass through the narrow opening, shoving it into the center of his makeshift camp before collapsing onto a nearby rock.


    The lizards scrambled in after him, their chirps filled with barely contained excitement. The overeager one immediately hopped onto the crocodile again, bouncing slightly as if testing whether the creature would spring back to life.


    Traebus waved a tired hand at it. "Yeah, keep at it, maybe it''ll get up and walk itself into the fire for me."


    With a heavy sigh, he forced himself back onto his feet. He still had work to do. Pulling out his sharpened obsidian knife, he crouched beside the reptile and pressed the blade against its thick hide. Even with enchantments, the hide resisted at first, but a firm, precise cut sent the blade sliding smoothly through the scales.


    He worked methodically, peeling away the leathery skin with slow, deliberate strokes. Crocodile hide wasn’t just useful—it was tough, flexible, and with the right treatment, could serve as makeshift armor or bindings. He set aside large sections of it, planning to dry them later.


    The small lizards watched closely, their heads tilting at every motion. One sniffed at the exposed meat and let out an eager chirp. Another inched closer before Traebus shot it a warning look.


    "Oh no, I know that look. You already got a free meal last time. If you want some of this, you’re gonna have to earn it."


    Ignoring their hungry stares, he moved on to carving out the best cuts of meat, stacking them neatly on a flat rock. The thick scent of fresh kill filled the air, mingling with the damp jungle humidity. He knew he had to work fast—predators would catch wind of this soon, and he wasn’t about to fight off another uninvited guest while elbow-deep in a dead reptile.


    With that thought in mind, he quickened his pace, knowing that tonight, at least, he would eat well.


    Then he heard it.


    Faint at first, but unmistakable—the distant sounds of a struggle. Across the river, beyond the dense jungle, something was fighting. The clash of heavy bodies, the snapping of branches, and the sharp cries of some unseen creature carried through the humid air, making him pause mid-slice. He frowned, his grip tightening around the obsidian knife as he turned his head toward the distant commotion.


    The noise escalated—deep snarls, the unmistakable sound of flesh being torn, followed by a brief, haunting silence. Then, the earth seemed to vibrate as a massive, guttural roar shattered the stillness, followed by the explosive sound of trees splintering, crashing to the ground like brittle twigs.


    Traebus swallowed hard, his instincts screaming at him to remain still. Whatever was out there wasn’t just big—it was apocalyptic.


    He glanced at the small lizards. Even they had frozen, their bodies tense, frills twitching as they stared toward the distant destruction. The jungle had gone eerily quiet, as if every living thing was holding its breath.


    Slowly, carefully, Traebus exhaled. "Yeah. That’s probably not great."


    Not content to sit and wait for disaster to reach his doorstep, he quickly scrambled up the rocky wall of his enclosure, fingers gripping rough edges as he hauled himself up. His boots scraped against the stone as he climbed, each motion fueled more by adrenaline than skill. When he reached the top, he steadied himself, crouching low against the uneven surface, eyes scanning the far side of the river.


    The dense jungle canopy swayed in the aftermath of whatever had torn through it. Broken branches dangled precariously, leaves fluttering to the ground like defeated soldiers after battle. The distant treeline was a jagged mess, entire sections flattened where something massive had bulldozed through without care. But what concerned him more was the eerie stillness that followed the chaos, the unsettling way the jungle seemed to wait.


    And then came the splash.


    A deep, resounding plunk from across the river, heavy enough to make the water ripple outward in expanding rings. It wasn’t the sound of a fish leaping or a fallen branch breaking the surface—this was something much larger, something entering the water with force.


    Traebus stiffened, his grip tightening on the knife. His eyes darted toward the far shoreline, though the dense foliage blocked his view. His mind raced through possibilities. Had something been thrown? Had something fallen? Or was something crossing?


    His stomach clenched at that last thought. Because if whatever had just entered the river was trying to get to this side… then things were about to get significantly worse.


    Traebus stared into the gathering gloom, his breath shallow, his pulse hammering in his ears. The wind carried the faint scent of damp earth and stagnant water, but beneath it was something else—something primal, something that made the hairs on the back of his neck rise.


    Then, movement. Slow, deliberate, massive.


    A shape rose from the river, its sheer bulk breaking the surface with an eerie grace. Water cascaded off thick, ridged scales as a massive head emerged, rising up to eye level with him atop the wall. The elongated snout, lined with jagged, predatory teeth, dripped with river water, nostrils flaring as it inhaled deeply. Dark, calculating eyes locked onto him, and for a moment, Traebus was too stunned to move.


    It had snuck up on him.


    The towering beast remained deathly still, save for the subtle sway of its sail-like spine, the ridges along its back flexing as it sized him up. There was no frantic charge, no immediate aggression—just a cold, assessing stare, as if it was deciding whether he was worth the effort.


    Traebus exhaled slowly. "Well... this is profoundly unfortunate."


    Then, another roar, even louder than before, shattered the stillness like an explosion of pure fury. The sheer force of it sent shockwaves rippling across the water, rattling Traebus’ bones as if the jungle itself was recoiling in fear. He barely had time to react before the massive beast lunged forward, its powerful legs propelling it into a sudden, earth-shaking charge.


    "Nope! Nope! Not happening!" Traebus yelped, hurling himself off the wall without hesitation. He hit the ground hard, rolling to absorb the impact before scrambling to his feet. His mind raced as his eyes darted around the camp—he needed a plan, fast.


    His gaze locked onto a jagged chunk of obsidian near his work area. Magic surged through his thoughts as desperation took hold. If I can amplify the energy, overload the mana structure— He didn’t have time to finish the thought. He sprinted toward the shard, reaching for the raw material, his only hope for survival now hinging on whether he could cobble together an arcane bomb before becoming prehistoric roadkill.


    A thunderous impact shook the ground as the massive beast collided with the rocky formation surrounding Traebus’ camp. The force of the hit sent tremors through the stone, dislodging small pebbles that tumbled down the walls. Dust and debris filled the air as the creature reared back and slammed into the barricade again, its immense weight causing cracks to form in the rock face.


    The lizards scattered in a frenzy, their high-pitched chirps blending into the chaos. Some dove into crevices, while others bolted under the crude shelter Traebus had built, their tiny claws scrabbling against the stone in pure terror. One particularly panicked lizard ran in circles, frill extended, shrieking as if the sky itself were collapsing.


    Traebus barely had time to register the carnage before another impact sent a section of his wall crumbling inward. The jagged stone splintered under the assault, sending sharp fragments flying through the air. The beast bellowed, its rage intensifying as it clawed at the breach, its talons raking against the fractured rock, widening the gap with every heaving motion.


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    “Great, yeah, just come on in!” Traebus shouted, his voice nearly lost beneath the relentless growls and snapping jaws. "Why not? Everyone else seems to be using my camp as a free-for-all!"


    Dust coated his face as he grabbed the obsidian shard, mind racing. He needed to work fast, or he wouldn’t have a camp left to defend—hell, he wouldn’t even be there to defend it. The beast was tearing through his sanctuary like it was made of brittle twigs, and if he didn’t throw something back soon, there wouldn’t be anything left to throw.


    With an ear-splitting crack, the monster finally breached the wall, sending a cascade of shattered rock into the camp. The massive beast stomped through the rubble, its nostrils flaring as its dark, predatory gaze locked onto Traebus. The sheer size of it was suffocating, its wet, scaled hide glistening in the firelight, the jagged sail on its back twitching with every heavy breath.


    It was here for him.


    Before Traebus could react, a flash of movement darted past him. The small, overzealous lizard—the same one that had danced atop the crocodile—let out a defiant trill and launched itself at the intruder. It was laughably small compared to the monstrous predator, but it didn''t hesitate. The brave little creature snapped its tiny jaws and clawed at the beast’s massive foot in a desperate, futile defense.


    The enormous lizard barely seemed to register the attack before it flicked its powerful forearm. The impact sent the small lizard sailing through the air, crashing hard into the rock wall with a sickening thud. It crumpled to the ground, unmoving.


    Traebus froze, his heart hammering. The little thing had tried to defend him. Him.


    Something snapped inside Traebus, something raw, something primal. Rage and panic melted into something deeper—an instinct older than reason, older than fear itself. His grip tightened around the obsidian shard, but his mind was no longer thinking in terms of weapons. There was no strategy, no careful planning—just the overwhelming need to hurt the thing that had dared to destroy his sanctuary, that had killed something that had fought for him.


    A guttural, wordless roar tore from his throat as the dam inside him shattered. Raw mana, untamed and violent, surged through his body, his vision going white-hot with its intensity. The ground beneath his feet cracked, tendrils of searing energy arcing outward as if the very air itself were fracturing under the force of his fury. He didn''t channel it through the obsidian—he didn’t need to. The power poured out of him like an unstoppable flood, coursing into his veins, filling every fiber of his being until it could no longer be contained.


    With an almost unconscious gesture, he unleashed it.


    The world exploded in a torrent of arcane force. A blinding blast of raw energy erupted from his outstretched hand, slamming into the massive predator with the force of a collapsing mountain. The beast reeled, its scaled hide instantly scorched, great blackened wounds torn across its chest where the mana struck. The impact sent it skidding backward, its massive form crashing into the remains of the shattered rock wall, flattening what was left of his defenses beneath its bulk.


    The creature let out an earth-shaking, agonized screech, its body convulsing as crackling arcs of raw mana seared through it like living lightning. Its ridged sail twitched, its legs kicking as it struggled to rise, but the damage had been done. It had never encountered anything like this before—nothing in this world had.


    Traebus stood there, panting, his body trembling as the last traces of mana flickered off his skin. His vision swam, his mind barely registering the devastation around him.


    And yet, deep inside, he knew one thing for certain.


    He wasn''t done yet.


    His hands trembled, still crackling with residual mana, as his gaze darted around for something—anything—to press the attack. His eyes locked onto the jagged chunk of obsidian near his feet, its glossy black surface reflecting the chaotic energy still lingering in the air.


    Thinking fast, he grabbed the stone, pouring the last reserves of his magic into it. The air around it vibrated as it greedily absorbed the energy, the mana-storing properties of obsidian causing it to hum with unstable power. He could feel it growing hotter in his palm, the surface rippling with flickers of uncontrolled arcane energy.


    "Alright, rock, you and me, we’re making history," he muttered, teeth clenched as he wound back his arm. This should explode on impact. Just a simple, catastrophic detonation.


    He hurled it with all his might.


    The stone shot forward, striking the injured beast square in the chest—only, instead of the explosion he expected, the obsidian flared brilliantly and then—


    Reality twisted.


    The massive predator let out a deep, confused rumble as its feet lifted from the ground. For a brief, surreal moment, it seemed frozen, limbs flailing in an attempt to regain balance. Then, with a sudden, violent lurch, it was yanked upward—not backward, not away, but straight into the air as if the sky itself had decided to claim it.


    Traebus’ exhausted brain barely had time to process what had happened before he staggered backward, staring in open-mouthed disbelief as the giant lizard flailed, rising higher and higher. It let out an enraged, bellowing roar, clawing at empty space, but there was nothing to grab onto. The magic was reversing gravity, not obliterating its target.


    Traebus blinked rapidly, watching as the massive beast continued its unintended ascent. "Okay. Not what I planned, but... I’ll take it?"


    His victory was short-lived. The beast continued its ascent, rising higher and higher, its enraged bellows fading into the night sky until it was nothing more than a rapidly shrinking speck. Then, with an almost comical abruptness, the spell failed.


    A terrible, echoing silence filled the air as gravity reasserted itself.


    Traebus'' eyes widened. "Oh. Oh, that’s not good."


    Far above, the massive saurian flailed uselessly, its massive body twisting as it plummeted back toward the earth like a living meteor. He didn’t need to do the math to know that whatever was underneath it was about to have a very bad day.


    But he had no plans to stick around and find out how that played out.


    Shaking himself out of his stunned daze, he turned and sprinted toward the fallen lizard that had tried to protect him. It was still motionless, its tiny body eerily still. Scooping it up with surprising gentleness, he cradled it against his chest as he bolted for the nearest exit from his shattered camp.


    The other lizards, sensing the urgency, scrambled after him, their frantic chirps echoing through the night as they darted between the rubble. Behind them, the sky was momentarily illuminated by the glowing reflection of the descending titan, its shadow blotting out the moon as it fell.


    Traebus didn’t look back.


    Behind him, a high-pitched, almost comical shriek erupted from the sky as the massive predator plummeted toward the earth, flailing helplessly in its final moments. The bellowing howl turned into a drawn-out wail, growing louder and more desperate as the jungle floor rushed up to meet it.


    Then, impact.


    The force of the landing was cataclysmic. A deafening explosion of earth and shattered rock erupted from the camp as the monstrous creature slammed into the ground like a divine hammer of wrath. The very land beneath Traebus’ feet trembled violently, nearly sending him sprawling. A shockwave of dust and debris blasted outward, sweeping through the jungle in a choking, blinding cloud. Trees splintered like brittle twigs, boulders cracked apart, and what little remained of his camp was obliterated in an instant.


    His once-secure refuge was now nothing more than a massive, smoldering crater, filled with the twitching remains of a thoroughly broken behemoth.


    Traebus risked a glance over his shoulder as he ran, eyes widening at the sheer devastation. "Well... that’s one way to remodel."


    The uninjured lizards darted alongside him, their frantic chirps barely audible over the ringing in his ears. The little one in his arms remained limp, its shallow breathing the only sign of life.


    He gritted his teeth and forced himself to slow down, his breath coming in ragged gasps. As much as he wanted to flee and never look back, survival demanded more than blind panic. He turned toward what remained of his camp—or rather, the smoldering crater where it used to be.


    The devastation was absolute. Stone walls reduced to rubble, supplies buried beneath layers of dust and shattered rock. The few things he had gathered—gone. Even if he wanted to rebuild, there was no structure left to salvage. This place wasn’t just damaged; it was erased.


    He let out a weary, bitter chuckle. "So much for my fortress of solitude."


    With a deep breath, he moved toward the wreckage, quickly scanning for anything worth salvaging. A few scattered tools, some scraps of leather from the crocodile hide, but nothing substantial. His weapons, his food supply—obliterated.


    He clenched his fists. Again. I have to start over—again.


    The realization settled in like a lead weight in his gut. There was no saving this place. He had to move, find somewhere safer, somewhere more defensible. But the nagging doubt crept in—was there anywhere safe in this world? Every time he thought he had carved out a place for himself, something bigger, deadlier, came to rip it away.


    His grip tightened around the injured lizard in his arms. It had fought for him. It had tried. And he would do the same.


    Carefully, he knelt and placed the limp creature onto a flat rock, his fingers brushing over its tiny, motionless form. Its chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths, but it didn’t respond to his touch. His gut twisted—this wasn’t good.


    Digging through what little he had left, Traebus tried to recall anything useful about treating injuries without supplies. He pressed gently along its body, checking for broken bones, but every attempt to help felt like a shot in the dark. He had no bandages, no salves—just his hands and a growing sense of helplessness.


    The lizard twitched weakly, barely clinging to consciousness. Traebus clenched his jaw. That left him with only one option. One that made his stomach churn.


    Magic.


    He hesitated, looking down at his hands. His body still ached from the raw mana surge he had unleashed earlier. His magic here had always been unpredictable, even under the best conditions. Healing was a delicate process, requiring control he wasn’t sure he had left in him. If he botched this, he could do more harm than good—or worse, kill the little thing outright.


    He swallowed hard. No time for second-guessing. Taking a shaky breath, he placed his palm over the lizard’s small frame and reached deep for the remnants of his mana, willing it to flow—not as an explosion, not as a weapon, but as something gentler.


    "Alright, little guy," he muttered under his breath. "Don’t explode on me, okay?"